iAm
by Tearrer
Summary: Sam's life takes an unexpected turn in her final year of high school. Sometimes you have to experience life, the ups and downs, in order to really live at all. Sam-centric with a bit of Seddie. WIP.
1. Chapter 1, Week 0

**This is an introduction chapter. The rest of the story (if I continue) won't be written exactly like this. I know it's short, bare with me.**

**Disclaimer: **Not my characters. Not my world.

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><p>She didn't know why they had agreed to do it… okay, that was a lie, she knew. It had been an attempt – one last feeble attempt to fix the broken <em>thing<em> that they had become. Relationships were supposed to be full of love and mutual bullshit, right? Well theirs wasn't. It was like two separate people from two separate worlds with two separate mindsets had been thrown together in some mixed up, falsified relationship. Opposites don't attract in real life. We've all held negative and positive magnets, trying to force them together, and it just _didn't_ worked. Even science proves this kind of crap isn't realistic.

So after two years of hitting and hugging, and arguing and making up, it was just getting so damn _tiring_ to try and keep whatever dysfunctional thing they had alive. They had gotten bored lately. She had gotten bored. Bored, bored, bored. Bored of it being so freaking hard to keep them together. That thrill that went with an argument had disappeared months ago. And now it was just tiring.

One week ago they had finally agreed on the first thing in months. They agreed that they loved each other, and they had agreed, in a frenzy of… was it passion? Anger? Frustration? Love? Well, whatever the cause: they had agreed to have sex.

As she walked down the hallway of the stupid high school she had been going to for three and a half years now she couldn't help but remember all the weird, random, soppy, girly memories she had shared with her friends. How she used to (okay… and still sometimes) give Gibby massive wedgies, or when she and Carly had unscrewed the locker doors from the wall and made them all fall when they were unlocked, or when she and Freddie had kissed for the first time in the hallway _right there_.

It was better then, in the first three years of high school. Those years you didn't have think about what was going to happen afterwards. You didn't have to talk to your boyfriend about how you were destined for different colleges (Sam's being the college-that-doesn't-exist, of course). You didn't know that your best friend was going to an out of state college that you'd never have enough money to afford. You don't have to think about how alone you'll be after high school ends. In the first three years of high school, you always get to go back.

As she walked up to her best friend, she knew that Carly was expecting some weird pseudo-Sam that would be sobbing over her break-up with Freddie that had happened over the weekend. Of course, that Sam didn't exist – here or anywhere, for that matter. And when Carly realized that, Sam watched her shoulders visibly relaxed, put on a smile that was real, and start talking about the next webshow that she, Sam, and Freddie would be working on as if nothing had happened.

And that's just the way Sam liked it.


	2. Chapter 2, Week 1

**Thanks for the alerts all of you guys requested for the story, I'm glad some people read and ****liked it. I figured I'd update ASAP, since the intro was pretty lacking.**

**I'm trying to get a BETA, hang in there with me until I do ;).**

**Chapter 02 – Week 1**

Of course, that would have been the easiest way to move on with life, right? Just pretend like nothing happened? But life isn't easy: everyone knows that.

So when Sam entered the studio and Freddie turned around to see who was walking in, there was an awkward moment of silence. Trying her best to pretend like nothing was off, she proceeded into the room nonchalantly.

"What're you looking at, nub?" Freddie just rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.

"What took you so long, Sam?" Carly asked as she laid out the props they were going to use for the show on the table.

"Eh, I didn't feel very well. I guess I still don't," Sam shrugged her shoulder. Carly just nodded as if she understood… not that she did. Because, honestly, Sam wasn't talking about Freddie, she just didn't feel well.

"What's wrong?" Freddie piped up, actually sounding like he cared. Sam couldn't help but steal a quick glace at his expression and noticed that he had that 'I'm Freddie, the most selfless guy in the world' look on his face, which meant that he was being genuine.

"Just tried… I feel a bit, I don't know, flu-y." She shrugged again, brushing it off. "But it's all good, I feel better now that I'm away from the school. It was probably just the smell of books, teachers, and homework getting to me all at once."

"I'm with you on that!" Gibby agreed loudly as he caught the tail end of the conversation as he entered the studio. He put his backpack on the floor behind the camera and walked to the stage next to Sam and Carly.

"Fancy seeing you here Gibby," Carly greeted with a bow and a goofy voice, smiling. "I guess we can start now since we're all here and ready."

As Freddie started the iCarly countdown Sam and his eyes met for the briefest of moments before she pointedly looked away. His eyes, at least right now, reminded her of different times when they were good, and that stung, as much as she willed it not to.

But in time this was going to work; they could be friends again. They _had_ to be friends. This wouldn't be awkward… Not awkward at all…

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><p>The last month had been the worst. Maybe that's even when it started going bad, she wasn't even sure anymore. All she knew was that it had been terrible. Skipping school and lying in bed all day just because some boy was driving her nuts… that <em>wasn't<em> what Sam Puckett did. It just wasn't. And yet she had done it. Whether it was Freddie that was making her tired, or the tiredness making her sick of Freddie she didn't bother to consider because it didn't matter: they were two in the same to Sam's eyes.

He'd make fun of her odd choices in foods just like he had done since before they started going out, but recently it hadn't seemed very funny at all. It was annoying, if nothing else.

If she weren't eating enough, he'd get on her case about it as if he wanted her to eat some of the weird food he had been making fun of just a day before.

Then he'd do this weird eyebrow-crinkle thing, which meant he was worried about her – and he had been doing that _so_ much lately. Sam didn't need anyone to be worried about her! All anyone needed to be worried about was her coming at them for worrying at all. She was independent – he wanted her to depend on him.

And she had just gotten so damn tired of it. And she'd tell him that. He would say he was just looking out for her, and she'd tell him she didn't need him for that. Then he'd be upset that she didn't need him and ask why she wanted a boyfriend in the first place. And Sam really didn't have an answer for it.

So she would avoid him for a day; stay at home and sleep, or lounge around in her pajamas all day, because she didn't have the energy to get up and go to Carly's house. At Carly's she would most likely run into Freddie, and she was just too tried to deal with him.

A week before they had broken up she sucked it up and went to his house, ignoring her screaming conscious telling her that she was too tired to fight, and this would just exhaust her more. And as she sat on the couch with him, cuddling in his arms, watching some dumb movie that didn't have blood or gore (because everyone knew Mrs. Benson didn't allow _good_ movies in her house), Sam remembered why she loved him. Hell, she didn't even have to remember – she just _knew_. He was nice to hug when she needed a hug, and to use as a pillow when her sofa at home was just too empty and too cold. She knew that kissing him made her mind go blank and forget that she was too tired to fight anymore. That night at his house, she knew that kissing Freddie was _definitely_ worth any fight in the world.

They both must have known it. They must have felt that this spark had come from some long forgotten place that would probably never be found again. So together they grasped it, they indulged themselves in those feelings that they _knew_ were real. Words were spoken: "I love you", "forever", "only one".

But words fade. And sparks die. And the next day, Sam ended it.

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><p>He had been so surprised when she said it… like he hadn't seen it coming at all. Sam was just as confused as he was: it was plain as day to her, how could it not have been to him? Hadn't he noticed the rough month they've been having?<p>

She told him after school, at the threshold of his apartment. He had expected her to follow her in. She hadn't. He asked why. She told him.

"What about last night? I thought you said… I love you! Wha-?" Freddie was saying fragments, looking bewildered.

"I do, but I can't do this anymore. I mean, I'm _me_ and you're _you_. We're too different," Sam's eyes were wide, surprised he couldn't understand, as she tried to explain.

"But that's what makes it-us-great!"

"No, that's what makes us fight. You've been so… I don't know! We're fighting more, haven't you noticed? It's getting old. It's not great, it's bad," Sam said sadly as she looked toward the floor, trying to explain. She didn't mean for him to be so upset, but she knew that this needed to happen.

"Yeah we've been fighting because I'm worried about you! You keep saying things about after school, stressing about college, avoiding me, being all… moody, I guess. I want to help, that's what I'm supposed to do, I'm your boyfriend!" He said it as if she was supposed to understand but she didn't. Because she didn't _want_ him to worry and help! And she told him that.

He didn't understand. He kept asking her what had changed, and she told him she was just tired of fighting.

"I don't need you to worry and help me with anything! That's not what you're 'supposed to do'; you're supposed to be here with me to have fun and help me be _less_ stressed out about everything. Instead, you're making me more tired with our stupid fights and how we can't agree on anything. I'm just so sick of this, Freddie, and I want it to go back to how it was before when we were just friends. Just friends."

"So I've just been a distraction? Us being together was just some fun you were having before real life came around? What about yesterday? Why would you even do that if you weren't serious about us?" And now he was angry. And when he got angry, Sam's reflex was to get angry back.

"Maybe it was just for fun, I don't know! Did you actually think we were going to go on happily ever after when school ended? Ha! As if your Ivy League lifestyle ever honestly had room for _me_! You knew this was coming so don't throw it all on me! This stupid fight we're having right now even proves my point further!" Sam was pretty sure half of what she said was a lie, but for some reason breaking up with him was the only thing she cared about for this conversation.

"So instead of working it out you're just going to run away? Fine. Just go." Sam closed her eyes, wishing she could just undo this entire conversation and make it go a different way. But she couldn't.

"I want to be friends, Freddie. Like before. Just, I don't know, try to be friends with me," Sam said with a sigh. She was exhausted. She wanted to go home and lie in bed and pass out and forget this even happened. Her shoulders slumped, she didn't even bother to try and look like the tough guy – something she was known for doing. Something she _loved_ doing. But not today, and not right now.

Freddie watched her leave, not saying another word. When the elevator doors slid shut, Sam heard the faint noise of Freddie's front door closing.

**I know that was unsatisfying. I wrote it and I'm even frustrated with it (but I liked it, heh). The point is, however, that break-ups are not _supposed_ to be satisfying.**


	3. Chapter 3, Week 2

**Alas! I have not abandoned you I promise heh. I've just had an extreme lack of creativity lately and haven't been in the mood to write. I began reading what I've already written of this story and got a burst of pride (cocky? Me? Nahhhh!) and had to post a new chapter for you. Not much happens, but its important and longer than the previous two.**

**Bare with me while I take my time writing, please. Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 03 – Week 2**

She felt like crap. It was third period, gym was next, and Sam would have done just about anything to get out of it if she had the energy to do so. All night she had been tossing and turning, pretty much sweating her butt off, trying to fall asleep to no avail, and today she was paying the price.

"You look beat, is something up?" Carly asked, sounding concerned, as they changed in the locker room.

"I couldn't sleep last night, so I'm just really tired. I can't wait to get home and pass out," Sam answered honestly as she threw her shirt over her head.

"Too busy thinking about a certain someone?" Carly said, giving Sam a playful jab in the stomach.

"I have better things to think about than a geeky nub," Sam lied easily, since Freddie had been on her mind most of the night. "But poke my stomach again and I might not be able to hold in my real feelings about Fredweird. I honestly don't feel good, like I said."

While Carly was unconvinced by the Freddie-bashing she figured she'd give Sam a break today. "It stinks that it's running day today. Maybe if you tell Coach Redd that you don't feel well she'll let you off easy."

Sam snorted, "Oh yeah, that'll be the day. Remember when I put glue in her shoes freshman year? Well I'm pretty sure she hasn't. I bet if I told her I was sick she'd make me run twice as much as you."

Carly giggled at the memory but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, probably not the best idea then."

They made their way out to the gym and sat next to each other on the floor to stretch while Redd took attendance. Sam really hated Tuesdays and Thursdays. Also known as gym days, also known as torture days for Couch Redd. If she had any other coach it probably would be her favorite class – there were no tests or essay in gym! But no, she wasn't that lucky. The only perk to gym class was that Carly was there to be her sidekick during the miserable fifty minutes.

After the first ten minutes of running in circles, Sam was winded. The five-minute walking break gave her some time to recuperate but it didn't last for long.

Five minutes into the second ten minutes of running and she was seeing spots. She stopped her jog (which had been as slow as her grandma, seriously!) and began to walk, trying to regain her balance.

"You okay?" Carly stopped beside her and patted her back a bit for comfort.

"Puckett keep it moving!" Coach Redd yelled from the sidelines on the opposite side of the gym.

"Yeah, I just have to walk a second," she said with a wave of her hand. "Keep going or Redd's going to kick your butt too!"

"I'm not just going to leave you, you look like you're going to fall over!"

"Nah, I'm good!"

"Puckett, Shay get moving!" Redd sounded more impatient. Carly gave a little growl but sighed and continued running, moving a little quicker so she could make a lap around to catch back up with Sam.

Sam picked up her feet a little more as she half-ran, half-walked around the gym. As she shuffled past Coach Redd she even managed a sarcastic smile and wave in her direction. Just as Carly caught up to her the coach blew the whistle, signaling that it was time to walk for five minutes.

"Maybe you should sit down, Sam," she said seriously.

"And give _her_ the satisfaction? I don't think so." Sam nodded towards the coach not bothering to hide her contempt.

"Puckett! Since you think you're above the rules why don't you run the rest of the time! It's either that or you get a zero for the day!" Redd's stupid voice rang out over the gym so everyone could hear. A few other students snickered, but Carly's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Can't she see you don't feel good? What's her issue?"

"She's a control freak, that's what. I'll get her back for it, don't worry Shay!" Sam said with a smirk, but sighed before picking up her feet a bit and continuing her shuffle while everyone around her walked. Considering she didn't get the best grades in her other classes, she really needed to keep a B in gym. Even if she didn't care about her grades as much as Carly, it's not as if she wanted to completely bomb out.

She easily shuffle-walk-ran the three minutes remaining in everyone else's walk, even chatting with Carly as she lapped her twice, never forgetting to wave at Redd when she went past. When Redd blew the whistle to signify the final ten minute running period Sam looked around to see where Carly was, noticing that she was only a few feet behind her already. Carly laughed as she slowed her pace to match Sam's snail-speed.

"Nice one, Sam. Technically you're running so I guess she can't give you a zero."

"Yeah," Sam replied shortly, because she was trying to focus on run-walking in a straight line. She wasn't out of breath, but she was definitely a few seconds away from breaking a sweat. Why was this stupid gym so hot? Why did she have to get assigned stupid Coach Redd? Why did she have to be sick today, of all days?

"I'm going to go around one more time and then I'll go slow with you. Sorry, I just want some points ya know?"

"No problem," Sam nodded best she could, sending a smile that fell from her face almost as soon as Carly looked away.

"PUCKETT! Move or fail!" Redd yelled from behind her suddenly. Sam stopped her stupid fake running all-together and looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch her balance. She looked back at Redd, who made a "get going!" motion, glared, and started back up in a normal jog.

Carly caught up to her quickly but didn't say anything, only giving her a worried side-glance. Sam ignored her and focused on moving in a straight line. She could not give stupid Redd the satisfaction and stop. Maybe she was too stubborn for her own good, but better stubborn than a pushover.

When she stumbled the first time Carly grabbed her arm to stop her from moving forward anymore.

"Sam cut it out, just sit down!" But she didn't really hear here. She wasn't sure if she was even moving forward anymore. All she could see where the stupid black foggy shapes or something and ugh! The next thing she knew she was on her stupid hands and knees, not even moving but the room was still spinning.

"Coach!" Carly said from her side, sounding a little spazzy.

"Chill out, Carls, I'm fine, I'm fine," Sam said as she tried to push herself up but failed and slipped back down right onto her knee. As she sat motionless for a few more seconds the stupid black fog cleared away and she noticed that there was a second pair of feet standing beside her. A giant pair of shoes that probably smelled as terrible as the owner did.

"Get up, Puckett, the charade is over," Redd's annoying voice rang out.

"No, she said she wasn't feeling well in the locker rooms, Coach. I told her to sit this one out but she kept saying she-,"

"Zip it, Shay, I know how this one works," she snarled. "Zero for the day, Puckett."

"That's not fair, she-!"

"You want a zero, too, Shay?" Carly instantly shut her mouth.

"Good." Redd's whistle echoed around the gym and the steady sound of feet against the gym floor stopped. "To the locker room guys, good job."

"C'mon, Sam." Carly grabbed her upper arm and helped Sam stand, despite her protests.

"Look I'm fine, I'm just really hungry! I'm having ham withdraws, that's gotta be it," Sam said good-naturedly, even though she was walking a bit slow.

"Maybe you should go to the nurse's office and head home."

"Not until after lunch – my favorite period!" Sam's eyes lit up a bit as she seemed to regain some composure and they walked towards the locker rooms.

"Nice one, Puckett, getting coach all peeved," Brant, one of the guys in our class, said as he walked into the boy's locker room. Sam gave him a nod and smirked to herself.

"You didn't even tick her off on purpose, Sam. You're actually sick!" Carly sounded a bit annoyed that she was taking advantage of the situation, but honestly it was a good cover for why she, Sam Puckett, had actually _fallen over_ in gym class. Apparently Sam wasn't the only one who didn't like Coach Redd!

"Being sick has its perks, obviously," Sam said with her nose upturned as she walked to her locker proudly. Carly just rolled her eyes.

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><p>"You fell over?" Freddie repeated suddenly, looking up at Sam seriously. It was the first thing he had said all day, right in the middle of Carly's recount of what happened in the period before.<p>

"Yeah, but you should have seen Redd's face! Totally worth itttt!" Sam said in a sing-songy voice as she sat back in her chair in the cafeteria.

"So you did it on purpose?" Freddie asked slowly, trying to figure it all out.

"No! She didn't! She was all dizzy and fell over because the stupid coach wouldn't let her stop running when she obviously had to!" Carly announced with a huff.

"That's besides the point. The _real_ story is that I was able to tick her off in the process."

"No, you being sick is the point. Maybe you should go to the nurse, Sam," Freddie said as that stupid crease between his brows began to form. Sam narrowed her eyes at him, getting annoyed.

"Why are you worried about me? I thought I told you that it wasn't your job anymore, nub. Just stay out of it!"

"Sorry if I care that you're sick. Obviously you don't so someone has to!" he said defensively.

"Oh shut up and mind your own business, will ya?" Sam sneered at him as she threw a grape from her untouched plate at his face. She stood up from the table and stalked out of the cafeteria.

"She didn't eat anything!" Gibby said in surprise, gesturing at the meatball sandwich and side of grapes on the tray that had been left behind.

"She said she would go to the nurse after lunch. I'll text her to make sure that's where she went."

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><p>Sam's real destination was the nearest girl's bathroom though. And she seemed to have made it just in time, because as soon as she was kneeling in front of the toilet the contents of her stomach were in the bowl.<p>

Thankfully Freddie had given her an opening to leave and she was able to rush to the bathroom without any more attention. Carly was already all frazzled about gym.

She felt her phone buzz in her back pocket and she sat back away from the toilet when she was positive she was finished.

_Did you go to the nurse?_

Carly.

_Yeah I'm going home now. See ya tomorrow unless I stay home again._

Well, it wasn't a total lie. While she wasn't at the nurse's office, she definitely didn't plan on staying here the rest of the day. Sam let her head lean against the side of the bathroom stall as she reached out and flushed the toilet.

What was _wrong_ with her? She couldn't sleep thanks to stupid thoughts of Freddie floating through her mind all night. She was falling over in gym class. She was throwing up in the girl's bathroom…

All she could do was sigh. She just _had_ to get the flu right now, didn't she? Right when everything else was going on. She forced herself up off of the floor, feeling her stomach cramp as she did so. It had been hurting all day, probably due to this stupid flu.

She stayed in the stall a few minutes longer, just in case, before deciding she was good enough to walk to the nurse's office and beg to go home so she could get some much-needed sleep.

It had been a long day, and it was only noon.


	4. Chapter 4, Week 3

**I have three things to say this A/N, so it's going to be a tad bit longer than the usual (I try to keep them short). One, I'm sorry for the wait. I've just been uploading faster than writing and I'm scared that if I catch up with myself I won't have any incentive to write at all hah. Laziness at it's finest...**

**Two, thank you to the people who have reviewed, favorited, and alerted my story. You're my drive to keep writing (and, thus, update sooner!)!**

**Three, I don't usually do this but I'm going to review-beg lol. The sad truth is that the stories with more reviews often get more views/hits. So, with that in mind, I'm hoping I can inspire you (yes, YOU!) to click the Review button at the end of the story and leave a comment: bad, good, short, or long. I love hearing from you guys, seriously.**

**That being said, enjoy the chapter! It's pretty long by my standards, and there is a bit of Seddie in it, so we can treat this as a Holiday gift! (Posted on Dec 28, 2011)**

**Chapter 04 – Week 3**

"And what's the circle of life without pie?"

"A circle of life where I just ate some pie!"

"So tune in next week and maybe you'll get to see Sam eat some pie!" Carly said with a final wave to the camera.

"And that's a wrap! Nice one guys," Freddie said with a smile as he set his camera down.

"I wish the zoo had let us bring the turtle, though. It would have been way more authentic!" Sam said as she took a bite of the pie they had been using as a prop. She had been eyeing the thing all night and it was time it took its rightful place in her stomach.

"It wouldn't have fit through the door, Sam! It's ten feet wide!" Freddie said reasonably. _Always the buzzkill_, thought Sam.

"That's what the window's for, Freddie," Carly said wisely.

"Ahh, I knew I was your friend for a good reason! Always plotting some great chizz! So when are we stealing the beast!" Sam asked excitedly, actually sounding serious.

"Sam, that's, like, a crime." Freddie's eyebrows were up to his hairline.

"It's only a crime if we get caught! Besides, Limbo will make a good addition to iCarly!"

"Limbo?" Freddie said in confusion.

"The turtle." Sam took another bite of the pie.

"I like it!" Carly said enthusiastically. "But I don't think we can take him, Sam. Freddie's got a point. You've been in handcuffs too many times, anyways. Isn't it once more and they keep you for real?"

"Yeah… I guess…" Sam said, looking a bit downcast at the idea of leaving Limbo alone in the zoo. Lucky for her the pie she was currently holding was the perfect food to make her feel better.

"Pie?" she offered, holding out the pan to her friends. Carly just made a face, looking at the disaster that Sam had created when she attacked it. Freddie just shook his head.

"More for me!" she shrugged happily, enjoying not having to share.

She was having a great day so far. It was Saturday, she didn't have school the next day, she was with her best friend…s, and she had gotten a boatload of sleep last night. In Sam's world, that definitely meant that it was time for some fun.

"Let's do something," Sam suggested, looking between her friends.

"Like what?"

"I don't know… skydive!" Clary's eyes went big. Obviously that's a no.

"Okay, not skydiving… bungee jump?" Sam tried again. Freddie gave Carly a look.

"Ugh. Ice skating?" Sam said less enthusiastically, but still optimistically.

"Okay!" Carly said happily, and she hopped up off of the chair she was sitting in.

"I guess…" Freddie agreed reluctantly. Sam gave a little 'whoop!' and the three of them headed downstairs to grab a ride from Spencer.

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><p>"This is so unfair, you two know what you're doing!" Freddie complained from his position on the ice – sitting. Carly laughed and skated forward to help him up for what seemed like the hundredth time since they got there.<p>

"You'll get the hang of it! You're sort of learning how to stop now, that's good!" Carly's pep talk seemed to reassure him a bit and Freddie nodded.

"And it's not like we're doing anything to make it worse for you," Sam said innocently as she glided towards him and started making circles around him. He tried to keep her in his sight, circling around unsteadily until he fell right back down onto his butt. Sam laughed.

"Sam!" Clary cried as she reached back down to help Freddie up again. Sam continued smirking as she skated away and did a few skips and jumps, stuff that she had learned when she was younger and took lessons. Carly watched, impressed. Freddie just huffed in annoyance.

"I think I'm going to sit out for a few minutes… save my butt from some pain." Carly nodded as he unsteadily made his way to the stands.

"You're not helping him much, it can't be very fun for him, ya know."

"It's not _my_ job to keep him entertained," Sam said lazily as she skated backwards and did some fancy footwork stuff.

"Well, you could be a bit nicer…" Sam stopped skating and shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess…" Sam said as she began to skate backwards again, swirling around as she did.

"Why do you keep treating him like this? I mean… you never even told me why you two broke up in the first place." Carly skated forward to keep up with Sam, who was moving away (probably on purpose).

"It just wasn't working out," Sam said simply, looking down at her feet for a second. "We fight too much."

"No. You don't really fight at all anymore. You two just kind of sit there. It's boring," Carly said simply.

"Maybe I like it better this way. 'Boring' as you call it; maybe that's more relaxing for me!" Sam sounded annoyed. Sam _was_ annoyed. She didn't like this stupid question-and-answer Carly had decided to start up.

"You guys fight, that's what you do! That's why you like each other!"

"No, that's why we hate each other. That's why I broke up with him," Sam said the words roughly. Carly looked at her, surprised she would say something so harsh.

"You don't hate him," Carly said, rolling her eyes at that.

"Yes I do. And I don't miss him either!"

"I never said you did." Carly smirked that one. One Carly, zero Sam. Sam narrowed her eyes, about to speak, but she didn't get the words out before she went falling forward towards the ice.

She managed to catch herself with her palms, but the rough ice against her bare skin caused a few nasty-looking scratches. Luckily, there was no blood on the ice, but the hiss Sam made proved that it had hurt.

"Are you alright!" Carly kneeled down and helped Sam sit up since she was currently without use of her hands.

"Yeah, yeah…" Sam said, annoyed that she was on the floor being picked up for the second time in two weeks. She was like some damsel in distress and Carly was her prince.

"Carly to the rescue again," Sam said with a laugh as she used Carly to help herself up onto her feet. Carly laughed, too.

"I should go wash off my hands, I'll be right back." She skated off the rink and headed towards the bathrooms. She made it a point to use the rink exit opposite the one Freddie was at, even though it meant a longer walk to the bathrooms.

When she got to the bathroom she checked to make sure no one else was in the room before slouching forward and leaning against the wall for support. Her stomach hurt _so badly_. She hadn't even landed on her stomach, but the jolt of falling must have done something to make it happen.

She used the wall to guide her to the sink, where she began to wash her hands. As the warm water hit her skin she watched as tiny traces of blood fell from her right hand and mixed with the water, causing a pink liquid to descend down the drain. Ugh! She had been having such a good day and now _this_. She slouched forward and let out a groan as a cramp ran through her abdomen. She drew her left, unscathed hand into a fist to try and suppress a moan but it just _hurt_.

"Sam?" Carly's voice rang out from the bathroom entrance. Sam cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. She managed to stand straight enough by the time Carly was next to her that it didn't look like anything was wrong.

"We returned our skates. We both decided that we'd had enough fun for the day and assumed you had too." Carly motioned to her hands.

"Yeah, sounds good." As soon as she spoke she knew it sounded off. Like she had been holding her breath for hours and her chest was about to explode.

"What's wrong?" Carly looked surprised by the discomfort in her voice.

"I… It just stings. Bad. Not sure why," Sam took a few small breaths.

"As soon as it's clean enough it'll stop. Use some soap. It'll hurt at first but then go away after a few seconds." Carly nodded in encouragement and motioned to the soap dispenser.

"Right. I'll be right out, go hang with Freddie." She forced a smile and Carly knew that Sam wanted her to leave. Always trying to hide her 'weaknesses'. Nevertheless, she complied and left to go wait with Freddie.

As soon as she was out Sam let out a huge sigh and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax her stomach muscles to see if it would help. Luckily it did, and after a few minutes she was able to walk out of the bathroom as if nothing had even happened. She had wrapped her hand in some paper towel, which was just in case it started to bleed again.

"Whose stupid idea was this again?" Sam said grumpily as she left the bathroom, carrying the skates she had taken off.

"Yours," Carly answered easily.

"I told you we should have gone skydiving."

"Yeah, cause that fall would have felt _so_ much better," Freddie snorted in response. Since she didn't have a good comeback, Sam decided silence would be best.

* * *

><p>When they arrived back at Carly's house, Sam felt the onset of bile rising from her throat. She nearly ran to the bathroom, calling out 'dibs' on the bathroom so they knew where she was going and didn't suspect why she was going.<p>

She didn't even know why she _cared_ if they knew she was sick. Part of her knew that it wasn't a big deal, while the other part of her brain – the girly part that gets all worked up and over-analyzes things – told her something different. But none of that mattered right now, because if she didn't stop puking her guts out sometime within the next two minutes Carly was going to come looking for her and find her kneeling in front of the toilet anyways.

* * *

><p>"She's being weird." Carly just looked at Freddie, trying to make sure that this conversation was okay to have. She didn't want to upset him, but she really wanted to talk about this to someone.<p>

"Yeah," Freddie sighed, "I know."

"What do you think is wrong? Is it what happened… eh, a few weeks ago? I mean… she won't even talk about it when I ask her what happened!"

Freddie let out a dry laugh, "She wouldn't even tell _me_ what happened."

Now _that_ was not what she had expected to hear. After two years? She just… dumped him? But why? Rather than say this and make Freddie upset she kept the questions to herself, making sure she'd bug Sam about it later.

"She's been gone for a while I'm going to see what she's doing. Maybe she needs help with her hand." She went to stand up but Freddie beat her to it.

"I'll go!" Carly couldn't help but smile a little. She rolled her eyes and motioned her head in Sam's direction. "Go get 'er!" And Freddie didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

><p>She was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, head resting on her knees. Why wasn't this stupid flu she had going away? She had felt fine two hours ago before she had fallen on some stupid ice! She needed to go home and go to bed, because now that she had puked out the contents of her stomach her head was killing her and she was tired as hell. This sucked. This week sucked. No, this entire month had sucked so far.<p>

"Sam?"

But it wasn't Carly. It was Freddie. Stupid Freddie. Why wasn't it Carly? She let her head fall back against the wall, intentionally letting it hit a little harder than necessary. _Stupid wall, stupid head, stupid headache_…

"What do you want, Freddie?" She didn't even try to sound angry or happy or anything for that matter.

"You've been in there for a while…"

"Nice observation." Okay, that time she was being a little snarky. But could you blame her?

"Well do you need help or… uh, something? Are you okay?" He sounded like a lost little boy. Sam sighed and cursed the stupid sensitive part of her.

"No I'm okay, I-," And of course at the worst possible time in the world she started to cough, feeling that all-too-familiar feeling, and the next thing she knew she was throwing up.

It only took a few seconds for Freddie to come in, sit next to her, and then rub her back soothingly. He was kneeling beside her as she gasped for air, doing this gross throwing-up thing, and he wasn't even her boyfriend anymore!

When she finally stopped she choked on air as she tried to breathe easily and her eyes began to water without her consent. And, seriously, she wasn't crying. It just happened… stupid watery-eyes…

She flushed the toilet as soon as she could. Since Freddie seemed to be taking this all pretty well Sam decided that she'd be grossed out _for_ him.

"That was gross, sorry," she said with a raspy voice. She stood up and rinsed her mouth out with some tap water, grabbed some toilet paper, and wiped her mouth just in case she had anything on her face.

"No it's okay. Think you're done?" Freddie stayed on the floor, waiting for her answer. She ended up just shrugging and reclaiming her seat in front of the toilet.

"I thought I was done five minutes ago and apparently I wasn't. You coming in probably sparked it this time…." Freddie rolled his eyes, but stayed put.

"So… what's wrong? Flu?" he asked as casually as possible. Sam just shrugged.

"I don't know. It won't go away. Its been happening since last Tuesday. I feel like crap."

"It must be the flu. I mean, what else could it be?" Freddie looked at her seriously, as if he wanted her to say something. Sam knew what he was thinking and her eyes locked with his. And then she was trying really hard not to smile, because he _would_ be Mr. Drama King, wouldn't he?

"You probably gave me something," Sam said in the most serious voice she could manage. Freddie's face turned from confused to shocked to absolutely white in the matter of seconds.

"I did not!" he said loudly, as if being obnoxious would make it true. But it was okay, because Sam was laughing now. And it felt good to laugh, especially after the crappy hour she had been having. Of course, Freddie's non-laughing made her laugh even harder.

"I'm being serious, Sam." He still hadn't even cracked a smile. Sam rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Look, I'm sure its _nothing_ like that. I just have the flu, that's it," she said sternly, trying to convince him almost as much as she was trying to convince herself.

"But… You're like… throwing up and stuff. And you're all moody! _And_ you're eating weird, that is, if you even eat at all…" He was obviously nervous because he was looking anywhere but at her.

"Look, Freddie, I know what you're saying and I promise you that's _not_ happening." Sam looked at him seriously.

"How do you know? Did you, like, test it… or something…?" Now she was getting frustrated, because _no_ she hadn't tested it but… she just knew she wasn't. She would _know_, she's a girl. She would know! But apparently the silence answered his question because he went into some weird freak-out mode that she had only seen him in a few times in the many years she had known him.

"Look we'll go tomorrow, or-or later today and then we can find out and make sure you're alright and stuff, and then-,"

"No," Sam interrupted, shaking her head as she did so.

"What do you mean 'no'? It's just up to you if this is happening," Freddie said as if that was something he had a _right_ to say.

"What do you mean, it's not just up to me? It _is_ up to me because there isn't any_thing_ to take care of because there is no _thing_ inside of me!" Even if she was going to be sick again, she didn't care. She stood up angrily, quickly, getting a wonderful head rush in the process that was so totally Freddie's fault.

"Stop, please, just, okay." Freddie stood up too, looking stressed as hell, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared too, okay?" And he looked at her, like he seriously wanted her to answer.

The look in his eyes was what made her nod though, not the stupid words he was spewing out of his mouth. He looked like he cared, like he still might love her a little, even after she had smushed his heart into pieces threes weeks ago.

"So we'll go later?" he asked seriously, but supporting a look that said she didn't really have the option to say no, even though he was giving it to her.

"Ye-yeah." And for some reason she agreed, because this was Freddie and she trusted him. Trusted him to not be a 'guy'. One of the guys you seen on a television show that walk out and are never seen again when something like this happens. Even though she _was_ scared (yeah, he had called it, alright), she knew he would be there the entire time: scared _with _her.


	5. Chapter 5, Weeks 4 and 5

**Sorry for the long wait, but I just started school again and my writing time has been cut in fifths. But keep in mind that every time I post I've been writing more of the story (I like to keep about three chapters ahead in order to motivate myself). Thanks again to the people who reviewed, read, alerted, favorited, and everything else! Without you I wouldn't continue.**

**Chapter 05 – Weeks 4 and 5**

**Week 4**

It was negative. He had held her hand the entire two-minute wait and they had stared at the stupid plastic thing that she had peed on (ew), holding each other's hands, and found out together that this really _wasn't_ happening to them.

Then they hugged; they hugged like they used to, months ago, as if they were scared the other one was going to disappear at any moment.

And then Freddie kissed her, and she let him. Hell, she even kissed him back. She didn't even know exactly why they were kissing – whether it was out of relief, or loss of some potential future, or out of realization that this was it. The end.

He pulled away from the kiss first, but didn't let go of his grip on her. He even buried his face into her neck, placing little kisses wherever his lips met her skin.

And then he took a step back and let go of her all-together. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, then opened them. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

She nodded, not really caring that he had done it at all, but some rational, tired part of her forced her to respond. "It's okay, I think it was called for in the moment… as long as it doesn't become a habit, you know…"

Freddie nodded, and then shoved his hands into his jean pockets looking adorable and kissable, but so very off-limits. Sam grabbed the stupid test, shoved it back into the box it came from and put it into her purse. The last thing they needed was his crazy mom to find _that_ anywhere in this place.

"Thanks for doing that with me. I think a lot of guys wouldn't have. I guess having a geeky nub as an ex has its perks, right?" She gave him a good-natured punch on the arm, trying to relax herself and him after that intense moment-thing they had just shared.

"Yeah, I guess. And having a bossy, mildly-abusive ex had it's perks too, sort of," he said with a laugh.

"We were obviously perfect for one another," Sam said sarcastically as she walked towards his apartment door, preparing to leave.

"Yeah, we were," he said seriously, sadly, all playfulness lost in his voice. Sam turned to him and their eyes met. She looked away quickly and headed for the door, not wanting to fully see how sad he was, all thanks to her.

"See ya tomorrow, Fredweird," she said as happily as she could, pretending like she hadn't noticed his expression at all.

* * *

><p>Carly basically had a fit when Sam told her what had happened. She hadn't been planning on tell her at all, but having an ex-boyfriend live across the hall with thin walls apparently made secrets impossible. Rather than let Carly sing "kissin' in a tree" more times than Sam could count, she decided to just tell her the truth about why she had been at Freddie's the day before when Carly brought it up.<p>

"You two… did _that_ and you didn't find it important enough to tell me?" She sounded shocked and a little hurt, but that didn't stop her from asking the twenty questions that popped into her head.

"Why didn't you tell me? How was it? What was it like? Why would you break up with him after _that_? Was it bad? Did he do something mean? How did you guys even have this… false alarm anyways? We're you guys careful about it? Does anyone else know? Did you tell someone before me? You better not have!" Sam waved her hands in front of Carly, trying to stop her crazy questions.

"Whooooa, sista! Hold your horses, okay? I only remember, like, three of the questions you asked! And of course I didn't tell anyone! You weren't even supposed to find out, but since you have crazy 'Spidey-Senses' that tell you when I'm at Freddie's its apparently impossible to _not_ tell you things. Yeah we were careful, it's just I've been sick lately and Freddie said it was possible so we figured I'd check to make sure. And he didn't do anything wrong, I just felt like it was time to break up because I was tired of fighting all of the time."

Carly stared at her for a moment, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "So-so _that_ happens… and you dump him?" she asked slowly, in total disbelief.

"Eh, yeah. I think we did it on accident. I mean, not like we didn't _want_ to… but everything had been going so bad and we were trying to make it work. But… I mean… sex doesn't just fix things. It just made everything more confusing and worse and I just needed to end it." Sam rushed out all of the words, not really wanting to talk about this. She wasn't really a 'feelings' type of girl, but she knew Carly wouldn't drop this one without some explanation.

"Oh," was all Carly said in response.

"Now that _that_ conversation is over, how about some ham? Your fridge better be fully stocked for mama!" Sam stood up, making it clear that this conversation was over. Carly looked a bit put-off, but she followed Sam to the kitchen anyways, going along with the whole 'this didn't just happen' façade that Sam had fully adopted.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" Sam looked back at Carly seriously, deciding to just get that out of the way.

"No, no way, I won't." Carly nodded dutifully, her tone equally as serious.

"Good, cause if you did I'd have to replace my daily Gibby-torture time and turn it into Carly-torture… which could get a little awkward since we're best friends and all."

"Psshh, you like me too much to torture me, I know it." Carly rushed up to Sam, pinched her cheek lightly, and patted her head before running forward to avoid any repercussions that signs of cuteness may have induced.

"Hey!" Sam jumped forward, racing after her down the stairs. Even as she chased Carly with not-so-nice intentions, she was glad that things were getting back to normal.

* * *

><p><strong>Week 5<strong>

A week later and she had a cold. This _would_ happen to her. She gets over the flu, only to have to deal with congestion and a cough. She had gotten about six days of healthiness before this new cold had started, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to that six days of bliss.

"Sick again?" Carly asked as Sam sniffed for the thousandth time that were sitting in the iCarly studio, trying to come up with ideas for the next show.

"I am officially allergic to school. I should probably stop going so often," Sam said with a convincing nod.

"Don't you skip at least one class a day as it is?"

"Obviously one isn't enough," Sam shrugged, already planning her new skipping class schedule.

"Spencer got a new girlfriend, ya know," Carly said suddenly, changing the subject.

"Who's the lucky lad-ay?" Sam wiggled her eyebrow suggestively, giving Carly her attention.

"I don't know her name but you know what she did last night?" Sam didn't even get the chance to guess before Carly started up her rant again, "She pulled me into the bathroom and asked me what Spencer's favorite color was. Do you want to know why she needed that bit of information for? I'll tell you! She wanted to know what color she should paint the walls of their house when they move in together. That's what she said, seriously, that she was going to pre-decorate their house!"

Sam listened, amused, as Carly continued the rant about Spencer's new crazy girlfriend. Crazy wasn't even a thorough enough word to describe her, in Sam's opinion. And if Sam knew anything, it was crazy.

It took about ten minutes of ranting for Carly to express all of her feelings for the batty girl dating cool-bro Spencer. Sometimes he chose the weirdest chicks, Sam had to agree with Carly on that. At least she knew how to choose them not-so-crazy. Freddie may have been a nub, but he was at least a nice, semi-normal, _sane_ nub…

Actually, he had been a pretty great nub while they were dating. Other than his worried pestering (a trait he undoubtedly got from his mother), he had been pretty… ugh. Why was she even thinking about this? Freddie The Nub didn't need to be thought about in this way anymore. They were over, they were no longer anything but friends, they were-

"Sammmmm…" Carly's hand was waving up and down in front of her eyes, and Sam shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Where'd you go? Daydreaming about a certain nubby-neighbor of mine?" Sam glared at her friend and wondered silently how Carly had known.

"Unless your neighbor is actually a pig named Abner that is about to be cooked in the oven, then _no_."

"Mmmhhmm…" Carly nodded in a sarcastic agreement and Sam could only roll her eyes.

"So, want to go see how long it take for a towel to disintegrate in the oven?"

"Sure," Carly shrugged her shoulder and Sam jumped up at the chance to partake in more pyrotechnics at the Shay's – a common escapade as of late.

"But we've gotta be careful, the fire department told us they weren't going to be coming anymore this month, we reached our monthly quota last week when Spencer decided to try to sculpt different types of cheese by melting it with a blow torch."

"That must have smelled _nasttyy_," Sam scrunched her face at the thought and Carly laughed and nodded, giving an affirmative for the assumption. The two friends walked out of the iCarly studio and towards the kitchen with equal excitement.

Sam had made it about halfway down the stairs before she began to feel lightheaded, as if she had stood up too quickly. Her eyesight became clouded momentarily and she blinked her eyes a few times with no avail. She gripped the railing of the stairs tightly and stopped moving, pretty sure that if she was going to take another step she may actually _fall_.

"Sam, you okay?" Carly said from a few steps below.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Sam admitted miserably, and Carly skipped up two stairs in order to take her arm and help her as fast as humanly possible to the bathroom. Most of the work was done by Carly, Sam had to admit, and she tried to remind herself to compliment Carly on her guns (which Sam didn't know existed until now).

Carly held Sam's hair as she threw up into the toilet bowl, despite Sam's obvious discomfort with Carly's presence. She had tried to ward her off with a wave of her hand, but Carly only responded with a high-five, annoying Sam to no end and making Carly giggle, despite the disgusting situation.

It was about two minutes before Sam caught her breath and sat up, her strength returning to her.

"I thought my flu was gone!" she said miserably. "I'm sorry, Carls, that was gross and I really hope you don't get sick."

"Yeah it was gross…" Carly made a face and offered Sam a hair-band.

"Thanks." Sam grabbed the black rubber band and pulled her hair back and away from her face.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor's office," Carly suggested nonchalantly, and Sam's face fell into a frown.

"I hate that place." And they both knew it. Carly had heard enough stories about Sam attacking doctors over the years – all highly amusing after the fact, but pretty scary for the doctors at the time they were happening.

"You've been sick for, like, three weeks. It's about time you got a flu shot," Carly teased in a sing-songy voice. The word 'shot' was never to be spoken in front of Sam. Ever.

"If I wasn't feeling so gross and you hadn't just held back my hair you'd be supporting a serious wedgie or black eye right about now. Mama don't like needles."

"Well good thing I'm such an amazing best friend and you owe me one."

"Yeah, yeah; once again saving me from distress. I think I actually owe you three now." Sam stood up slowly and went to the sink to rinse out her mouth. She was so used to this by now it was difficult to be fazed by the sudden lack of strength these nauseating experiences were causing.

"So, anyways, how about that stove and towel," Sam said quickly, walking out of the bathroom easily, as if nothing had even happened.

Carly watched as Sam retreated to the kitchen, frowning slightly, but didn't say anything as she followed behind.


	6. Chapter 6, Week 6 Part 1

**:o I'm sorry, as usual, for the long wait. BUT this is an important chapter (and pretty long by my standards), so I hope the wait was worth it. I was VERY meticulous about this one, and that's only going to get worse from here out, so bare with me. I promise I plan on finishing this story though!**

**Let's aim for four reviews this chapter! I got three last time (I adore you, thank you!), so maybe it'll begin to steady climb up, up, up! And don't worry, even if I get zero reviews I'll keep posting lol. **

**That said, ENJOY; I tried really hard to make it good!**

**Chapter 06 – Week 6, Pt. 1**

Sam really, _really_ didn't want to be where she was. Seriously, it had been almost-literally painful just to touch the freaking door to walk into the place. But despite how badly she wanted to turn around and run, she knew that being there would be the only way she would be able to enjoy bacon ever again. Her inability to hold down any type of delicious meat was getting on her nerves, and, if only for that reason (and she refused to give herself any other reason), she was at this sterile-smelling doctor's office, listening to the stupid clock on the wall tick as the seconds passed.

When the nurse called her name and led her to a random room in the back of the office Sam sat down on the noisy paper-covered seat and looked around nervously.

"Give Dr. Helen about ten minutes and she'll be right in." The nurse smiled and Sam didn't even bother to try and fake-smile back. She was too busy focusing on keeping her lunch down.

The wait in the small room alone was worse than the first one in the main office. There wasn't even a freaking clock to keep her distracted. The silence was swallowing her up: she wanted to leave. She was sixteen, not thirty, and alone at this stupid doctor's office to find out if she really _was_ pregnant and if the stupid test she had taken was wrong. Although it pained her to admit it to herself, store-bought tests could be wrong.

She was seconds from ditching the joint when the doctor walked in. She looked about forty, with gray roots matting her sandy blonde hair. As soon as she walked in she plastered on a smile and started talking in one of those 'I'm-being-nice-because-I'm-being-paid-to-be' voices.

"Hello, Samantha, it has been quite a while since you've been here last," she said with an edge to her voice that made Sam smirk. No doubt they were both remembering the Tetanus-shot experience where the doctor had left with a major bruise on her upper thigh from a (literally) kicking-and-screaming Sam.

"Right, I forgot about that doc." Sam's smirk didn't fade.

"That makes one of us, then…" Dr. Helen shook her head and took a seat in her rolling desk chair in front of the computer.

"So, Sam, what brings you in here today?" And _then_ Sam's smirk fell right off of her face.

"I've been sick lately. Like… I had the flu. But then it went away, and then I got a cold, but that went away, too, and now I have the flu again…" Sam looked down at her feet, which she was swinging against the bed/chair thing, making a steady 'thump' noise that was helping her relax.

"Any pain?" The doctor picked up her clipboard and a pen, ready to mark stuff down on the paper secured in it. Sam stared at the pen, knowing that as soon as the information was written down she couldn't un-say it. She was sealing her deal.

"Yeah… uh, stomach cramps, headaches."

"How frequently?"

"Well my stomach usually right before I throw up. That's been happening about one a day… at least. And my headaches when I'm tired, which is also pretty often."

"Have you been having trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah, for about a month now. I sweat a lot, which is pretty gross, but I'm cold so I don't know…" She let the words die off and watched as Dr. Helen just wrote everything down nonchalantly, like this _couldn't_ change her entire life.

"How have your eating habits been?"

"I don't know… weird. I eat a little less than before. Or I just throw up all of my favorite foods. Which sucks," she added with a shrug, because it really_ did_ suck. The doctor smiled slightly, but then went back into serious-face mode.

"Are you sexually active?"

"Uh… not lately… I-uh," she stuttered (_like a pansy_, Sam couldn't help but think). "I mean, about a month ago I did but not since then."

"Okay, and when was your last period?" Doctor Helen looked up at her at this question, and Sam's face must have lost some color because the doctor's expression changed slightly.

"Sam-,"

"Like two months ago or something," Sam cut off whatever doctor-y thing she was about to say and rushed the words out. She didn't like talking about this kind of stuff to begin with, and now this was happening and _gahh_!

"Did you take an at-home pregnancy test?" Doctor Helen's voice had become all soft-like and Sam narrowed her eyes in annoyance. She didn't need to be treated like some basket-case girl who was about to break down sobbing.

"Yes about three weeks ago. And it was negative," she said harshly, not meaning to sound as angry as she did. Oh well.

"Okay," she replied nicely, and didn't bring that up again. Rather, she stood up and took a few steps towards Sam, reaching forward and putting her cold hands against her neck, pushing around gently. She stopped that after a moment and then asked Sam to lift her arm and felt under her arm in the same way. She did the same with her chest, feeling around her breasts, which was pretty awkward, but Sam didn't protest. When she finished she made a few notes on the clipboard.

It all took about thirty seconds, but Sam felt like she was missing something important. "What're you writing?"

"Well a few of your lymph nodes feel a bit swollen, but that can be caused by a number of things."

"Like what?" Sam asked impatiently, her foot tapping anxiously.

"I don't want to speak too soon, Sam, it could be nothing at all. Or it could be due to the cold you had last week, or the stomach flu."

"Oh." Sam was totally discontent with the answer, and she was pretty sure that it showed all over her face.

"I think we should do a blood test, and in a day or two we'll get the results and see what is wrong. My best guess is that you contracted a stomach infection that lowered your immune system and caused you to be more susceptible to the common cold. If that is the case, I could start you on an antibiotic. I would rather wait to see the results of the blood tests first, however, in order to save you some money. For now I can write you a prescription for an inexpensive, mild sedative that should help you sleep for the next couple of days while we wait for the test results if you would like."

"Could I be pregnant?" Sam blurted out, not really caring about anything she had just said.

"That is a possibility, yes, but I wouldn't jump to any conclusions just yet. You have other symptoms that have nothing to do with pregnancy." Doctor Helen's hand patted Sam's knee in comfort but all Sam could do was sit there and stare at the wall opposite of her. The doctor had said '_yes_' somewhere in that sentence, and that was all that mattered to her.

Sam didn't speak as the doctor stuck a needle in her and stole some blood. Usually she would put up at least a little fight, to prove that she was in control of the blood-taking process, but at the moment she didn't care about anything other than knowing the results of the stupid test.

The rest of the appointment was a blur, where Doctor Helen said something about calling her, and then wrote her a prescription. She did recall the doc saying that the sleeping pills would only cost about five dollars at the local pharmacy with her insurance card.

All Sam knew was that this was going to be the longest two days of her life, and she was _very_ happy to have those sleeping pills to help the time pass quicker.

* * *

><p>The next two days for Sam were torture by impatience. While she was graced with a wide variety of talents – which included, but were not limited to, punching, winning arguments, and eating food – patience was not one of them.<p>

Usually Sam prided herself on being unlike the majority of adolescents who would, more often than not, be seen with a phone basically glued to their hands. The past two days, however, Sam had turned into one of those average teenagers.

"Expecting to hear from that _special someone_ still?" Carly sang the words playfully.

"Special someone?" Freddie asked quickly, looking like he regretted it the moment it slipped out.

"She's been checking her phone like a madman for the past two days. Obviously she's got the hots for someone, otherwise that ancient thing would be lost somewhere like usual." Carly had been convinced that Sam was expecting some prince charming to call her, and Sam decided that allowing her to believe that was much better than the truth. So rather than correct her misguided assumption, Sam had neither disagreed nor agreed with it. Until now.

"No there's not, Carly," Sam said sternly, and spared Freddie a quick glance.

"Why _else_ would you be so attached then?" Clary said with the same sing-songy voice, obviously not believing a word of Sam's claim.

"I applied for a job and am waiting for a call back." She said the first thing that came to her mind, and it turned out to be pretty stupid. Carly looked skeptical and Freddie was actually laughing.

"You? Work? Ha! I'd like to see you with a boss," Freddie said through his chuckling.

"It's at a butcher shop," Sam said defensively, trying to convince them it was true.

"Sure," Freddie said sarcastically, still smiling.

"Hey! I'd be a great butcher, I-,"

But she didn't finish the sentence, because at that moment her phone began to buzz. Her train of thought failed completely and her eyes stared at the caller ID: _Executioner_ (a nickname Sam deemed appropriate). She stood up quickly, falling over herself in the process, but was out of the room in seconds.

"Hello," she said into the phone, completely monotone.

"Hi there, Sam, this is Doctor Helen," her sweetly sick voice came out of the phone and Sam clenched her jaw in annoyance. _Obviously, you idiot_.

"Yeah I kind of got that." Sam didn't bother to hide her contempt. Dr. Helen didn't seem fazed, and continued on with that voice of hers.

"I'd like it if you could come into the office tomorrow with your mom in order to discuss those test results."

"Tell me now, can't you?" Sam asked quickly, wanting to get this done and over with. Besides, didn't having to go in mean it was bad news? They were going to talk about plans and options and… Holy chizz her life was over.

"I think it would be best if you came into the office. With your mom." She sounded as if she was choosing her words carefully, but a new edge-thing had made its way into her voice. Like she was upset or something.

Of course, that didn't matter because Sam's mind was racing with thoughts and she hardly even heard what Dr. Helen had said.

Baby. Pregnant. Life over. Freddie. Mini-Sam. Pink. Blue. Diapers. College. Bills. Money. Life. Her life was over. Her _life_ was _over_.

"Sam? Are you still there, Sam?" Dr. Helen's voice was loud in her ear and she managed to let out a choked noise as a reply.

"Sam, you need to tell me a time that you and your mother will be here tomorrow." Now her voice was slow and deliberate, as if she were talking to a five year old. She must have sensed that Sam was having a mini-panic attack thing.

"I don't know. She works all day tomorrow, she can't come." Sam managed to say the words, even though she knew it wasn't true. Her mom worked nights.

"Sam it is very important that she come in with you."

"Why? It's none of her business," Sam spat into the phone in disagreement. The last thing she needed was her mom to find out about all of this. This _mess_.

"Your mother is the policy holder on your insurance, plus you're a minor so that is technically besides the point. She needs to be here in order to discuss the next steps to-," Dr. Helen stopped talking suddenly and let out a frustrated sigh. "I will call her myself, Samantha."

"No! I don't want her knowing; she's going to kill me. Isn't there some doctor-patient confidentiality thing you're not allowed to breach? I'll sue you!" Sam was talking out of her ass, repeating words she had only heard on television.

"That doesn't apply to minors, Sam, and she won't be mad at you. I think you may be confused."

"Confused about what? There's nothing to be confused about! My life is over and I've turned into my _mother_. No. I'm _worse_ than my mother. She was at least nineteen when she had me!"

"Sam! You are not pregnant!" Dr. Helen said resolutely, but sounded a bit surprised.

Sam stopped short, because she was about to continue on her rampage. But now she didn't have to: her life _wasn't_ over anymore.

"Oh."

"Yes. Now, please tell me a time you and your moth-,"

"Wait, if that's not it then what's wrong with me? Why do you need my mom? Can't you just write me a prescription like you did with the sleeping stuff?" Sam interrupted the doctor, very confused and very much wanting to know what was going on. Something told her this was bad, the doctor calling her like this and asking her mom to show up. She suddenly got the chills, getting the inkling that something was _actually_ wrong with her.

"Tell me what's wrong." And it wasn't a question, because she was going to get an answer now or else there would be a bloody mess to clean up at the doctor's office.

"Sam it would be best for you-,"

"Don't tell me what you _think_ is best for me! Tell me what's wrong with me." Her voice was venomous and she was eager to know. After a month of being sick she deserved an answer. Now.

And to her surprise, the doctor actually gave her one.

"You have cancer."


End file.
